It Must Have Been the Mistletoe
by Aleize Claire
Summary: Spending Christmas Eve with Dave is so much more than she expected. Tie-in to my work in progress, The Power of Love. Takes place before that story opens. Written for SassyRaydorGirl in the Christmas Exchange! Xx
1. Chapter 1

_This was written for SassyRaydorGirl in the Christmas Fic Exchange. Merry Christmas, Dear and I hope you enjoy this! _

_It must have been the pretty lights that glistened in the silent night._

"What's your favorite holiday?" Erin asked. It was late at night and Dave offered to keep her company while she debated going home to an empty house, or sleeping on the couch in her office. "And no," she fixed him with a look, "Valentine's Day does not count."

He grinned devilishly, "and why not? It is a day for celebrating love."

She rolled her eyes," Please," she huffed, "it's a throwaway holiday that's marketed towards cheap philanderers."

He shrugged, and sank further into the sofa, "you've got me there. If I'm being serious, I'd say Memorial Day. The day of reflection and gratitude. You?"

She dropped her shoulders, "any normal day, I could easily say Christmas- the day for family and celebration."

He let his arm wrap around her shoulders.

His voice took a hard edge, "is Mark letting you see the kids at all?"

"On his time," she rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, "and I get to take them to dinner on Wednesday nights." She looked up at him and attempted to mask the pain in her eyes. "I never hurt my kids," she said, around the knot in her throat. "I've done a lot of stupid things, but I never-"

He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, putting an end to her speech. "I know that and Mark is an idiot to think otherwise."

She stood and went to the window. And swiped her face with the back of her hand. Too many late nights were taking a toll on her emotional health.

"You need sleep," he murmured the bags under her eyes were getting more prominent by the day.

"Pot, meet my friend Kettle," Erin deadpanned, and glared at him, "when is the last time you left this place?"

It was his turn to shrug, "twenty maybe, thirty years."

She stifled a yawn, "we both need sleep."

They lapsed into silence until Dave said, "Christmas was always good, growing up. We were lucky to get shoes the rest of the year, but on Christmas," he sighed wistfully, "Mom and Dad pulled out all the stops. My mother baked all year round, but she took an interest in Christmas cookies."

"My grandparents had the best ornaments," she murmured. "When I was a little girl, I was fascinated with their wax ballerina, I'd spend hours by the tree watching her twirl."

Dave chuckled, "really?" He asked, it wasn't easy to picture the strong, motivated woman beside him, spending time so frivolously.

She smiled, "it surprises me too."

"I have an idea," he held up one hand when she tried to protest.

"Please Erin, hear me out."

Dave's eyes shone with unspoken emotions as they stared out the window of her office. All of Virginia had been blanketed in snow and from the eighth floor office they could see the lights sparkling from homes miles away.

"What?"

"Spend Christmas with me," He said. The holidays always hit him hard and memories from a lifetime ago scurried out of the crevices of his mind, he needed distraction.

"Dave," she turned away slowly and swallowed hard, "it's only been two months-"

"Right," he said softly and dropped his shoulders, "I know we said we would take it slow."

She turned back to the window, she couldn't stand to see the rejection in his eyes, but she was in treatment. Entering a relationship at all was pushing the boundaries of her treatment program. Christmas was two weeks away, She didn't have to give him a definitive answer right away.

She reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. She answered, "I will think about it."

He gave a half-grin, and gripped her hand tighter. The moonlight cast a glare on the snow, illuminating her face, "that's all I can ask."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting at his dining room table, Dave sliced a piece of golden wrapping paper from the roll. Gift wrapping wasn't considered a manly skill but it was one that his mother, God rest her soul, had imparted on him and he was grateful for it.

He folded the soft white sweater he'd bought for Erin. Angora didn't come cheap but when he discovered it months earlier, he knew she had to have it when he noticed it in a Macy's ad while sorting through junk mail. Before they even started dating.

Was that what they were doing? He hadn't even kissed her yet and David Rossi didn't skimp on kissing. That was the best part of a budding relationship. Because every first kiss, with each woman was incredibly different and no matter how satisfying or honorable the first three Mrs. Rossi's were, they were all a warm-up gig. All of them were put in his path to prepare him for Erin.

He taped the box closed and folded the paper around it, securing each side with tape. He allowed his thoughts to trail off.

It wasn't that he didn't have ample opportunity to lay lip-lock on his boss. He could have, many times but he promised they would take it easy this time. Their relationship always seemed to work backwards. With sex that led to a friendship and then back to sex, without the friendship. So this time he would wait. When she called him confirming their' date' for Christmas Eve While her kids were with the rat bastard ex-husband, his heart soared.

He'd heard through the grapevine that she relocated to an apartment across town. He listened too closely to the gossip at the water-cooler where Erin was concerned.

An apartment was too small for a decent sized tree. So he bought an

eight foot, pre-lit spruce that now dominated his living room.

Tying an elaborate bow to the top of the package, he sat it under the tree, amongst the other gifts. Erin's kids were still young enough to appreciate surprises and Dave was more than happy to oblige as long as it didn't involve him wearing a red suit and a cotton ball beard.

His phone rang, drawing him out of his thoughts and he flipped it open.

"I'm on my way," her voice was like velvet and she sounded as excited as he felt.

"Great!" He smiled, "drive safe," he warned.

"I have one question," she sounded unsure.

"Just one?" He teased, to put her at ease.

She sounded preoccupied and he could hear voices in the background.

"Peanut butter or chocolate chip?"

Was she in a grocery store?

"Both,"

"What?" She asked as the background noise grew louder.

He spoke louder, "I said both!"

"Dave, I'm sorry, I can't hear you!" The frustration in her voice was evident, why would she brave the grocery store on Christmas Eve?

"Erin, it doesn't matter. Just get here!" He called, praying she heard him over the crowds.

The doorbell rang and he hurried to answer it.

"Come inside," he said and took the paper bags from her hands and sat them on the counter.

"Thanks for having me," she said, a little breathless.

She rubbed her hands together to try and regain some feeling in her fingers.

"Let me hang your coat," he offered, "then go sit by the fire."

He stood behind her and took her coat, while his gaze drank her in, the tight black sweater and skinny jeans were just for him.

"You have a beautiful home," she said, slightly in awe of the vaulted ceiling and the arched entryway.

"Thank you," he said, unloading the bags.

"Whatever happened to the house in L.A.?"She asked, memories of their time spent in the cabin on the beach, still gave her butterflies.

"I sold it. What is all of this for?" He asked, staring at the brand new cookie sheets, logs of cookie dough, sprinkles and various candy that sat on the counter.

A bright smile lit her face, "we're baking cookies."

"I didn't invite you here to cook," he said in surprise.

"We're just..." she paused, looking for the right word to describe what she wanted, "upholding traditions."

"With this?" He challenged and held up a log.

Her eyes narrowed, "what's wrong with Pillsbury?"

"It's cheap," he argued.

"It was free for you!" She shot back. "You're the one with the Platinum Express card, what were you expecting? Godiva?"

"Well..." he pretended to think it over. "Godiva is significantly better quality, but my mother would roll over in her grave if she knew we were using anything pre-packaged to, as you said, ''uphold her traditions."

He reached into the cabinet and pulled out a mixing bowl. "Come over here," he gestured for her to join him.

"I thought you didn't want me to cook."

"Touche,"

He pulled out some flour and another bowl. "I'll make the chocolate chip, you can make the peanut butter."

"The peanut butter is already pre-made," she shot back with just enough of a snark to make Dave raise his eyebrow.

"Please tell me that this isn't going to be your 'secret ingredient', Erin." He laid all the ingredients on the island.

"Because I don't know if the recipient can handle all the sweetness."

Erin tried to hold the scowl she shot him. A second later she chuckled. "Okay, you got me there. What do you want me to do?"

"Mix everything together, Erin, the cookies aren't going to bake themselves."

"Excuse me, who do you think I am, Betty Crocker?"

He gave a sideways grin, "I was going to say June Cleaver."

"Not even close," she said dryly.

"Just follow my lead, we will put Pillsbury to shame." He said, measuring some flour and dumping it into her bowl.

"Cocky much?" She said, raising an eyebrow.

"Did we just meet?" He offered her his hand to shake. "Hello Erin, I'm Dave and I'm giving you a centuries old recipe."

She tried to hold back a laugh but failed. "There is no way, peanut butter is centuries old," she scoffed. Adding a teaspoon of vanilla to his bowl.

You forgot," she said, in answer to his scowl that said, 'Keep out of it!'

"Now look who's baking!" He praised.

She chuckled, "alright," she admitted, "maybe I can bake, but that doesn't mean I like it." She mixed some peanut butter and sugar into the bowl and began to stir.

"Fair enough," he shrugged.

"This is not right," she frowned at the chunky mess inside the bowl.

"You forget something," he reached over her and with one hand he cracked an egg into the bowl.

"Show off," she muttered and finished stirring the batter.

"Perfect," he said, he stuck a finger inside and popped it in his mouth, "absolutely, perfect." He praised around the thickness on his tongue.

His gaze seemed to grow warmer and she had a feeling that he wasn't talking about the cookie dough.

"Let's get these into the oven," she said, against the knot in her throat.

"Alright," Dave said, "the timer is set, the kitchen is clean and," he gave her a warm smile, "I have a surprise."

"Oh really?"

"I need this," he went over to to coat rack and pulled down a scarf, "and your trust."

"You have both," she muttered as he tied the scarf over her eyes. "But the next time you pull the wool over my eyes, don't take the phrase so literally," she said and resisted the urge to scratch.

He chuckled, "what were you expecting, silk?" He asked, leading her past the fireplace in the den and into the living room, "maybe next time."He said softly and dropped the blindfold.

She blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust.

"David..." she said softly. "It's beautiful."

It was the last thing she expected.

"It's not finished, I don't normally put up a tree..." he admitted. He wished he had a camera, but film wouldn't be able to capture the way the fairy lights shone on her face. "It didn't seem right to hire a decorator."

"Well," Erin turned away from the tree, "hiring a decorator would be cold and impersonal." She said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Which we both know you're not." She whispered against his cheek.

"Are you profiling me now?" He asked. Tightening his hold on her. He could feel her pulse pick up from underneath the thin sweater. She pulled away just enough so their lips were just a breath apart. The smells of baking chocolate and peanut butter mingled with the scent of the evergreen combined with their racing hearts. It was the perfect storm for going further than she intended.

"Thank you, for all of this," she said, she dipped her head closer and her eyes shone with affection.

The beeping of the kitchen timer broke the spell.

"I should get those," Dave said huskily.

"Let' em burn," she murmured as the old familiar flames of desire began to course through her veins.

"Is that an order?" He came impossibly close.

"Yeah," her lips touched his and his tongue swept against over them, robbing the oxygen from her lungs.

He pulled back when the need for air became too great.

"I'll get the cookies, you get the ornaments." She said and pulled away.

Dave chuckled and headed up the stairs towards the attic, this was going to be a very interesting Christmas indeed.

Tbc


	3. Chapter 3

"Dave, if you want the garland to go around the tree, you have to move and put it there," Erin grouched. She held one end of the sparkly strand and Dave held the other. Although he was more interested in staring into space than decorating.

He tore his eyes away, watching her bob and sway, placing each bulb meticulously on the branches. Each branch had to hold two bulbs and they couldn't be the same color.

He should have known she would be as detail orientated at home as she was at the office. Especially with something as mundane as a Christmas tree.

"Sorry, I'm a little preoccupied." He said, with just enough heat to make her wonder if he was kidding."Which way am I going? "

"To the left," she instructed and she dropped her end over the middle branches.

"There," he stepped back to admire their work, white lights shone against the brightly colored balls and golden bows.

"What about a topper?" Erin asked reaching into the box, the only thing left inside were the shards of ornaments from Christmases past."

"Well," Dave knelt in front of the tree, "I think it looks pretty good but if you insist on a topper, I suggest that you open this."

Erin shook her head, it was all too much. He was so much more than she anticipated. "You're spoiling me, Dave."

"Good," he pulled out a box, "you deserve to be spoiled."

"Hold on," she went to her coat, and fished a small box from the pocket. "I bought you something, too."

"You first," Dave passed her the package and she sat down on the sofa.

She slid the bow off the box and sat it aside, her heart stammered in her chest as she opened the box. Her fingers traced the supple fabric of the sweater. "It's gorgeous." She said, little flecks of gold shone on the creamy material and she couldn't wait to try it on.

"I'm glad you like it, now," he reached over and lifted it from the box. "Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

She did as instructed and he slipped the ornament into her hand.

It took a moment but when she made the connection, Dave thought her face would split through the force of her smile.

"You remembered," she choked as emotions clogged her throat.

"Want to watch her twirl?"

She nodded, and stood up,"yeah."

Erin hung the ballerina on the tree and stepped away. "Don't open that," she said as his hand twitched towards his small box. "It's an unlimited cloud subscription."

His eyebrow raised in confusion and he settled his arm around her, "what's a cloud and why do I need a subscription?"

She chucked and settled back against him, with the glow of Christmas lights surrounding them. A big part of could get used to nights like this. "I'll explain later."

The End.

Criminal Minds is not owned by me. I am not affiliated with CBS


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